


High-Profile Goody Two-Shoes

by silkskin



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, based on actualbird's spy au, this is very old but i still like it so, unfinished work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 00:28:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20200720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silkskin/pseuds/silkskin
Summary: Michael’s sitting on a beanbag playing Super Mario Bros in his pajamas when three spies break into his apartment.-based off of reptilianraven/actualbird's spy au. yes it has been over two years





	High-Profile Goody Two-Shoes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reptilianraven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reptilianraven/gifts).

> hey so i literally just found this in my drafts just then??? this is 2 years old and only like the first chapter of what i had planned (and will now unfortunately never finish) but i still really like it so??? it's based off of [reptilianraven/actualbird's spy au](https://actualbird.tumblr.com/post/163737221522/whispering-let-it-get-out-of-hand) which is still so fuckin good. love you bird sorry for bringing this back i just wanted to get this out there.
> 
> disclaimer i have never done any coding or anything remotely related to hacking in my life!! also i should point out that i was too lazy to invent an intelligence organisation so this one is just ripped off from ruby redfort jskbhafbskg
> 
> hope you enjoy!

Chloe Valentine slams both her hands on the table, fuming. The glass of water sitting on top trembles. She grits her teeth. "They did _what!?_”

The agent in front of her cowers under her glare. “…T-they broke into our channels and stole six hundred thousand dollars, ma’am.”

“And how, may I ask, did _one person_ manage to hack into our million-dollar security system!? You do not need me to tell you the consequences of this breach, Guthrie!"

“We’re covering up the holes in our system as fast as we can—"

Chloe rubs at her eyes. “Fine, fine. Just.” Deep breath. "Who are they?”

The agent makes a face. “We… don’t know. The code is completely unique, baffled all of our back-up systems."  
  
"Meaning?"

"Meaning if I was being honest, they didn't seem to be hired by a company or any enemy federations. The code is brutally simple, no need for a whole lot of resources. They didn’t access anything else, no files, not even the main database. I don't even think the person realised who we were when they took the money."

"Which brings us to our six hundred thousand dollar question,” Chloe says, voice sickly-sweet, “Where is the money now?”

"Ramsey's on it, ma’am.”

"And the hacker?”

"They left a few small trails; we're scanning them now, but this person was thorough.” The agent explains, in guilty awe. "I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s unbelievable—"

“Mhm,” Chloe shakes her head, “Not helping."

“...Hopefully we'll have their identity in a few hours."

Someone opens the door. "Ma’am! Ramsey found the money! Some of it was donated to the Hills Charity, split under several untraceable fake users and run through a ton of false accounts. The hacker also used it to pay off, uh, several student loans? None seem to be their own, though, so we still don’t know who they are."

Chloe raises her eyebrows. The agents look cautiously at her, trying to gauge her rage. "…Interesting. Well, when you do find them—and that is a when, not an if—” she stands, glaring, “trace all records of their past activity and keep an eye on them. I want a report on this hacker on my desk within a week, got it?”

"Yes, ma’am,” the agents chorus.

She grabs the files from the desk and moves for the door. Her high-heels hit the ground like bullets.

"And I swear to god,” she calls over her shoulder, “if someone manages to hack into our apparently unbreachable security again, all of you are fired, you hear!?”

  
Michael’s sitting on a beanbag playing Super Mario Bros in his pajamas when three spies break into his apartment.

“WHAT the FUCK—“ Michael screams, as the door slams behind them and he scurries back, dropping his controller and leaving Mario to die violently via fireballs. There are three people he’s never seen before standing in the middle of his room, all dressed in white blouses and black slacks, their weird shiny business shoes a stark contrast against his filthy grey carpet.

There’s a moment of awkward silence as the screen continues to make rapid shooting noises, and both parties stare at each other with respective terror and amusement. The middle figure clears her throat. “Michael Mell?"

Michael, who has his back pressed up against his bed and is trying very hard not to pass out, yells extremely quickly, “Who the fuck are you guys!? How did you get into my room—“

“I have an offer to make you. You’re Michael Mell, right? Player 2?” The girl raises her eyebrows.

“Y-yeah?” Michael stammers, responding to his hacking handle on instinct. Then he blanches as the information settles. _These people know his hacking handle._ Which means they have to be hired assassins that are going to kill him slowly for stealing money from their clients' corrupt business corporations. Maybe even torture him for information. He’s going to die.

His mouth works quickly. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it.” _Fuck, they’re not going to take mercy on you if you deny it! Admit everything, and then beg for forgiveness—no, deny it and then call 911 as soon as you can—_

His fingers scrabble for the phone on his bed. But the figure on the left steps quickly forward, and Michael only vaguely registers her blonde hair (god, these people are so pretty, can supermodels become assassins?) before she grabs the phone out his hands and throws it out the fucking window. Michael lets out a cry.

She sounds surprisingly apologetic when she says, “Sorry, we can’t let you do that. We’ll get you a new one, don’t worry.” A thoughtful pause. “Actually, I guess that depends on what you decide."

“What I decide!?” Michael repeats, confused as all hell. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?"

“You’re not in trouble,” the original speaker says. “Well, you are, but not from us. Don’t worry. We’re here on civil terms.”

“You broke into my fucking room!” Michael screeches.

The girl who threw his phone looks accusingly at her colleague. “I told you that was a bad idea, Jenna.”

The speaker, Jenna, waves her off. Michael thinks she might be hiding a smirk. “Let’s just get seated. We have a lot to talk about.” She gestures at the coffee table in the nearby room. “If you don’t mind.”

Michael lets out a somewhat hysterical laugh. He’s so fucking confused. “Of course, just. Make yourselves comfortable?"

The assassins (civil terms, his ass) usher him to the table, Michael reluctantly moving with them as they refuse to let him out of their sight. Jenna continues to speak. “I’m Director Jenna Rolan, and these two here are Brooke Lohst and Jake Dillinger. We’re agents from Spectrum, a top-secret organisation that works independently from the government to, well, let’s say to make the world a better place.”

“Yo,” greets Jake, in the most frat-boy way possible for someone who’s dressed in an immaculate black suit. Michael nods jerkily back at him.

“Hi! I like your pajamas!” Brooke casually chirps, like she hadn’t just broken into his room and thrown his phone out the window.

“Thanks, it’s. Pac-man.” Michael says faintly.

Jenna moves to take a seat, but the two agents behind her position themselves behind her chair on either side. The overall impression is incredibly intimidating, and no matter what Jenna says, Michael definitely feels like he’s going to be interrogated. Or killed. Maybe both.

Michael takes the seat opposite them. “So… you’re spies? Are you serious?"

“That’s the common term, yes,” Jenna nods, before continuing her spiel. “Our records state that approximately three weeks ago, you hacked into Spectrum's security systems, stole six hundred thousand dollars worth of money, and redistributed these funds to several charities and people in need. After further research, we discovered that this isn’t the first time you’ve targeted certain business corporations like this.”

With every word, Michael sinks lower into the chair in a futile attempt to make himself invisible. “I can explain,” he starts, aware that he can absolutely cannot explain in the slightest.

But the agent raises her hand to stop him. “Listen, Michael, you'll be happy to know that we’re not here to kill you, or pry information from you, or do any of the things that you’re probably thinking right now.”

“You’re… not.” Michael says, disbelievingly.

“No. We’re here because your impressive displays of skill haven't just caught our eye, but the eyes of multiple agencies around the world, and not all of them are friendly. Gossip travels fast, especially when such gossip involves a single person successfully breaching the security of one of the most protected organisations in the entire world. In the past week, approximately three assassins have placed themselves within spitting distance of this very apartment.”

“What?”

Jake raises his voice. “Well, there’s only two now. We may or may not have intercepted one of them in their attempt on you on our way here."

Michael feels sick. “Oh god.” This is way too much information at once. This was his day-off from class, for fucks’ sake, and not only has he been assaulted by spies but now he’s on a hit-list? Apparently his next-door neighbour is a fucking assassin? What the fuck?

Jenna nods solemnly. “So. We’re here to make you an offer."

“I’m going to die,” he wheezes.

Jenna ignores him. “In return for protection from your enemies, we want you to work for us as a handler and put your expertise to good use.”

Michael perks up. “Wait, you want me to become a spy? Like you guys?”

“A handler. Similar, but you’ll be watching over most of the field missions as opposed to actually being in them."

“What? Why me?”

“You’re intelligent, Michael. We’ve looked over your movements and you’re not only obviously very skilled with computers, but you’re resourceful. Very few people would be able to hack into our systems, let alone people who’ve done so cooped up in their bedrooms with old retro junk.”

“I resent that.”

“And a good heart helps too.” Jenna gives him the first genuine smile he’s seen from her since she came. It’s subdued, but Michael knows he has her approval. He just doesn’t know what it’s worth. “Only targeting corporations with suspicious activity or far too money for their own good, and only donating to reputable charities or individual people. Paying off people’s hospital fees and tuition fees, but not your own? You’re a good guy, and I can see why our leader wants you on our payroll.”

“T-thanks?”

Jenna nods at him, face going stern again. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

Michael laughs weakly. “Just a little.”

“If you have any questions or concerns, I’ll do my best to answer them.”

“I just have one.” Michael says, firmly. And then at Jenna’s expectant look, he blurts, “Is this a joke? Am I being pranked right now? If I open my front door will I find a film crew waiting with a giant ‘you’ve been duped’ sign and directions to when my face will be aired on national TV?"

She levels him with a weary look. “We have a list of every single one of your criminal activities within the past decade, Michael. We know the Mario game you were just playing was illegally downloaded five years ago. This isn’t a prank.”

Michael swallows. “Right.”

“Any _other_ questions?”

Michael pauses. Thinks for a few seconds. He’s not opposed to the idea, he finds, but he doesn’t trust these assholes at all. He frowns. “What if I say no?”

“Well, I don’t want to say that our protection would be rescinded, but it will be hard to continue to provide active agents to protect someone that isn’t doing us any favours. You did steal six hundred thousand dollars from us, Michael, and though the money isn’t a huge issue, and you did help point out flaws in our system, the higher-ups aren’t particularly happy.”

“Point taken.” He’s stuck in this now, isn’t he.

“Okay,” Michael makes himself say. He looks at them accusingly. "How do I know you guys aren’t the bad guys?”

“If we were, we’d probably have left you to die.” Brooke states simply.

“Oh.”

“You’re a high-profile goody-two-shoes. Most ‘evil' organisations would benefit from your assassination,” Jake adds, making finger quotes.

“But... what if you’re like, trying to trick me into working for you?”

Jenna sighs. “We won’t get anywhere trying to convince you like this, Michael, but I assure you that while working for us, we’ll be as collaborative and open as possible. We’ll always take your advice into account when formulating missions, and you’re allowed to turn them down if you want to. You’ll even be able to terminate your employment at any time, and while we can’t protect you forever, we’ll make sure you still have resources to do so yourself. We only ask that you give us a chance, and learn to do something worthwhile with your skills. Is that fair?"

“…I guess.” Michael says reluctantly. He sits up straight, and steels himself before whipping out his final card. “How’s your policy on LGBT employees.”

Jenna lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Literally no one in this room is straight, Michael.”

“Oh.” Neat.

“...So?” Jenna prompts. “What do you say?”

“Can I, uh, have some time? Like to make a decision and maybe put on some proper clothes?”

Brooke giggles, and Jenna gives his pajamas an uncomfortably appraising look. “Of course. You have 48 hours. If you decide to join us, call us on this."

Michael takes the burner phone she offers, and opens it. There’s only one number on it. “I don’t think I really have a choice,” he says, glumly.

Jenna doesn’t answer, but gives him an apologetic look. “There’ll be agents stationed on your street pretty much 24/7 for the duration of the time. We look forward to hearing from you.”

And with that, they exit the apartment (by the front door this time), leaving Michael alone in his room with a phone, Pac-man pajamas, and rising anxiety.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! u can find me at my [twitter](https://twitter.com/kindlestuck) and [tumblr](https://kindlespark.tumblr.com). if u caught the new mutants easter egg please follow me,
> 
> also can you believe i originally made michael only steal twelve thousand dollars before i chatted with my american friends and discovered how absolutely impossible that would be. i’m so sorry @ american students


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